


A Battle For The Ages

by Wadamwoltron



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Play Fighting, Shadam, Sparring, Tickling, adashi, baking gone wrong, request, stubble adam rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadamwoltron/pseuds/Wadamwoltron
Summary: A short request from Tumblr! The husbands are enjoying an afternoon of baking when Adam decides to tickle Shiro with his beard. Let the battle begin.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	A Battle For The Ages

A shudder rushed up Shiro’s neck as he felt a series of small prickles crawl across his cheek. He giggled as he raised his hand to gently bap at Adam’s chin, stubbly from a few long days away from the razor. 

“Your beard is tickling me,” Shiro chuckled, adjusting himself from his position on Adam’s lap to move his face away, sliding off to rest on the couch beside his husband. 

“Oh what, you don’t like this?” Adam teased. He lunged forward to grab a hold of Shiro’s shoulders, and pressed his cheek against the latter’s own. Shiro yelped and collapsed backward, pulling Adam down with him to engulf the both of them in a tangled mess of their own limbs. The movie on TV soon was lost to background noise as the two laughed into each other’s smiles, Adam attempting to sneak a kiss onto Shiro’s jaw against his protests. Once they had caught their breath and Shiro ensured Adam wouldn’t make another attack, he nestled their foreheads together, their bangs a macchiato swirl of caramel and white. 

“Have you heard the timer go off yet?” Adam asked.

“No, but I can smell the cinnamon, so it’s gotta be getting close,” Shiro responded. He blew a short yet powerful breath upwards to flick their bangs out of his eyes. “I should go check.” Before backstepping out of the mess he’d gotten himself entangled in, Adam pressed a kiss to his husband’s now exposed forehead. He cast himself onto the remainder of the couch to allow Shiro passage, and smiled up at his husband as he stood. 

“Don’t move a muscle,” Shiro whispered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.” 

Shiro glided towards the kitchen and inhaled deeply as the flowing scents of cinnamon and pumpkin engulfed him. The spice cake they had made together looked a near perfect golden brown on top, and though he could see it just fine from the glass, Shiro opened the oven door to let the heat and smell rush over him. Another kind of warmth overcame him as a pressure rested against his back, and strong arms found their way around his waist. Even years after they had reconnected, Shiro still found himself flustered whenever Adam held him like this. It was a kind of safety he had only hoped to experience when he was younger, and a kind of gentle strength that always sent his heart pounding.

“Do you remember what I said about opening the oven?” Adam teased, resting his chin against Shiro’s shoulder. In response, the latter guided it shut quickly, still reddened by the sensation against his back and the embarrassment of being caught. 

“Not to do it,” Shiro retorted in a defiant tone, tilting his head to the side to gently bonk against Adam’s. “Cause it lets the heat out.” He attempted to mimic Adam’s scolding tone, the one that started deep and airy with a condescending shroud. 

“Was that an impression of me?” Adam chuckled.

“A try at one,” his husband grinned smugly, knowing he was a poor mimic.

“I’ll have your neck for that,” teased Adam. Without losing a second, he blew a raspberry right beneath Shiro’s jaw, and reveled in Shiro’s reaction as his whole body rattled against the sensation, goosebumps peppering every inch of exposed skin.

“Adam!” Shiro protested through a laugh. “You know I hate that!” He wrestled against the Adam’s strength holding him still, and managed to break one of his arms free to playfully shove his love’s face as far away from his neck as possible. “It’s even worse with all that stubble!” Adam only snickered as he maneuvered out from beneath Shiro’s slick robotic palm to nuzzle against his face once more. As the sensation grazed against his skin again, Shiro finally snapped and instigated his retaliation. 

“That does it!” He yelped. Breaking loose his other arm, Shiro turned out of Adam’s grasp and immediately lunged for his sides, one of the most ticklish parts of his body. 

“No!!” Adam nearly screamed, and darted away just barely in time for his husband’s fingers to collide with nothing. It was moments like these that Adam was thankful Shiro had gotten a new arm that connected completely with his body, one that couldn’t extend across the room to pin him down and make his sides ache with the laughter. He made a dash out of the kitchen and flew past the dining table, using a moment of cunning to grab hold of a chair and toss it backward as he ran past, hoping to slow Shiro down. Every present and quick-thinking, Shiro leaped over it with ease, and tackled Adam right as he reached the back of the couch. Together they barrelled over it, bouncing off the cushions to ultimately collide with the floor. 

Adam briefly attempted to cease his defense in order to assess if Shiro had been hurt in the fall. With his guard let down, however, he became a target once more, and his husband relentlessly plunged his hands into Adam’s sides, running his fingers against tensed obliques like a master pianist flicking out a concerto. Adam howled, falling back off of Shiro in his surprise as laughter, the pained kind of laughter that only accompanies this sensation, erupted from his chest. 

“No! No I’m sorry, please don’t- haha! Takashi please! I’m sorry, I’ll shave! I’ll stop tickling you I swear! Just-” his own gasps and shudders blocked the words from escaping his throat as Shiro positioned himself to run his hands down Adam’s thighs. Even with a layer of sweatpants blocking direct contact, Adam was always near incapacitated if his thighs were attacked like this. Lunging forward with everything he had, Adam reached to wrestle Shiro to the ground before he could win this war. His strike-before-struck attempt worked as his fingers collided with Shiro’s still toned stomach, catching up beneath his shirt to break him out of whatever control he still had. 

“Oh god, no!” Shiro yelped, collapsing backward. He found himself wrestling against his husband, the tickling briefly broken by the change in position and instead replaced with near hand to hand combat. It reminded Shiro of how they used to train in the Garrison gym, both intense and entirely focused on getting the upper hand. He loved the wild look Adam got in his eye whenever they sparred, and Shiro grinned as it sparked up again here, as Adam was frantically and futilely trying to graze his stomach with extended hands. Shiro’s robotic arm was powerful enough to support Adam’s weight bearing down alone, and he adjusted his palm to press the center of Adam’s sternum before gingerly maneuvering his now-free left hand down to Adam’s thigh, straddled against his own hip. 

At the contact, Adam burst, and crumpled into a pile of laughs and groans, still entirely elevated by his husband’s arm like a pedestal. He was far too incapacitated to attempt to squirm out of it, and resigned himself to his loss as the hand on his thigh sent one more wave of goosebumps up his spine before relaxing. Adam, still chuckling, looked down into his husband’s eyes with fury yet acceptance, and shook his head at his defeat. Shiro guided his palm slowly downwards to rest Adam’s weight on his own chest, bringing him in close as his love’s giggles slowly faded into sighs. The two of them now laid perfectly flat, one atop the other, their faces remarkably close as Shiro suspended Adam’s torso just an inch above his own.

“I must admit, you bested me this round, Shirogane,” Adam conceded. 

“Next time don’t start a battle you can’t win,” Shiro chuckled in response. They gazed at each other a moment before Shiro relaxed the fingers of his robotic arm to guide Adam down the short distance away, letting those parted lips fall with a gentle force against his own. Shiro found himself laughing into the kiss, his form breaking as he grinned. He felt Adam respond the same, his smile like a warm breeze as he exhaled a chuckle from deep within his chest. They broke away slowly and deliberately as Adam positioned him palms aside Shiro’s shoulders to support his own weight. Away from the intoxicating scent of the love of his life, however, Adam caught wind of the distinct smell of burning. 

“Oh shit, Takashi, the cake!” He laughed as he bolted upwards and ran for the kitchen. “The timer must’ve gone off while we were wrestling.” Shiro sat up and gazed over the rim of the couch to catch his husband yanking the pan from the depths of the oven, placing a darkened brown brick against the stove. 

“Is it salvageable?” Shiro asked. Adam studied it a moment, poking the surface and gazing around the crisped sides. “Probably, but once it sits for more than an hour it’ll be like chewing on concrete. 

“We best dig right in then,” Shiro chuckled. “We have a whole cake to eat in 60 minutes!” Adam shooed his comment away with his hand. 

“It has to cool at least a little, Takashi,” he replied. In his peripheral, Shiro appeared dejected at the thought of waiting even a minute longer for Adam’s famous spice cake. But then he pushed upwards to standing and strode over with resilience. 

“If it must cool, you could at least shave that weapon off your face in the meantime,” he joked, reaching Adam to graze a thumb across the growing beard. Adam leaned his head into the touch, losing the fight once more.

“Alright, you got me, I’ll go shave. But don’t assume I won’t try to tickle you again,” he jeered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” Shiro smiled.


End file.
